Three Volley Salute
by elaura.bastian
Summary: *CHARACTER DEATH* AU. Don't really want to give too much away in the summary, so have a read! One shot.


**Hi All, ah I hope you don't hate me after this! But i thought it was a real possibility something like this could happen. So I wrote about it. Let me know what you think, I love to hear what others have to say.**

Three Volley Salute

Twelve. That's how many funerals I have attended in my life. 10 of those have been service funerals. 10 times I have had to stand there while they fire blanks into the air in quick succession. 10 times I have watched them fold our flag and hand it to grieving families. This time is different though.

The Chief of Police speaks of honour, loyalty, bravery, and a fine officer. What does he know? He doesn't know the person lying before him.

Frank speaks of heroism, compassion, a friend, an inspiration, and a pleasure to serve with such a great officer. It's the truth, but still, he probably doesn't know that it's so much more than that.

I am the only one who truly knows everything.

The speeches are over, and I know what's next.

A three Volley salute is an old tradition, it actually comes from the wars where there was a ceasefire to collect the dead from battlefields, afterwards they would fire three rounds into the air to signify the fight can resume. That's why it's different this time. We may have been fighting a war, a war on crime, and a war on drugs. But it wasn't that fight that killed.

After this, I can't fight again, even if I could, I wouldn't. I took something from this world, and it will never be the same again. And everybody standing here today knows it.

Five men stood at attention about 50 metres away. Their left hand's holding their shotguns by the barrel. The command is given, and in unison they lift them up and clutch them with their right hand; aim them into the sky, and await further instruction.

"Fire three Volleys"

_FLASHBACK_

_4 months into training at the academy, and today is the day most of us have been nervously anticipating. Today we are issued our firearms, which we will carry throughout our careers in the Toronto Police Service. Obviously they don't just give them to us, we went through more than a couple of hours of lessons, and practices. _

_We were taught not only how to hold and fire different firearms, but also how they work. When you squeeze that trigger, the round doesn't just magically fire out of the chamber. No, it's the start of a chain reaction within that weapon. For example in a Glock, which are our standard issue service weapons, once the trigger is pulled it releases the firing pin, which in turn lights the gun powder, pressure is built up and the projectile leaves the barrel. And it all happens in milliseconds. At the end of it all you are left with is an empty cartridge casing, and ringing in your ears from that bang. _

_These lessons were eye opening to all of us. But right now, I'm not really thinking about that, holding the handgun in my hand, putting it in my holster for the first time, it feels like progress, a massive step in my training. It's the first time I think how real this is; I am actually going to be a Police Officer. It's exciting, for all of us, there is chatter and a 'buzz' in the air. _

_The instructor yells to "listen up", and the room goes quiet. "You have all had the training, you know how these Glocks work, its easy, its simple, but remember, its not just easy and simple for you, firearms may be used against you at some point in your career. If you are ever in that situation, I would much rather you have to go and explain to the white shirts why you used your weapon, than the white shirts have to go and explain to your family why you didn't". That certainly brought me back to the reality of it all._

_END FLASHBACK_

BANG

BANG

BANG

I look at the ground, its way too easy, it's way too simple to take a life.

The funeral continues with the folding of the Canadian flag, and up until now I had been successfully holding my tears at bay. Uniformed men and women who randomly glance up at me, some with sorrow in their eyes, some with hatred surround me. I couldn't blame the people who hated me; I had been wrong and now my best friend is dead.

I can still see the fear in her eyes; I can still hear her pleas, and I will always remember her, lying on the floor, with a single gunshot wound to the head, blood trickling down.

We were in an impossible situation, and I had thought it would end ok, I thought we would have more time, that we could get out, run, call in back up. I had gone over this about 1000 times in the past few days. Repeating myself for SIU, the Chief of Police, Frank, numerous detectives, and a few other police officers who could contain their anger long enough to ask me what the hell had happened. And every time, I can't believe I got it so damn wrong.

She died all because of an extractor; I couldn't feel it. I didn't think it was loaded. It was. I told her to trust me, she shouldn't have, and instead I should have listened to her, I should have just told them.

4 days ago, I pulled the trigger, a chain reaction ensued, and this time a casing and ringing in the ears weren't the only things left at the end of it, this time the dead body of Andy McNally was too.

The fight is over.

**So again please let me know what you think. Would you have taken the risk? I hope you enjoyed it anyway xo**


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